


Sons of Privilege

by Thisisarealtagwhy



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur puts the pieces together, Brotp, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic Legalisation, OFC - Freeform, Reveal, important to plot but kind of not?, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 01:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12545900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisisarealtagwhy/pseuds/Thisisarealtagwhy
Summary: "I suppose that means that the laws need changing." Arthur smiles, the perfect picture of a benign king, dressed in his finest robes, perched atop his throne next to Guinevere, looking equally regal in her dress, crown and expensive jewellery.(Or in which Arthur ain't dumb and one Isobel Cortez is the final reason for a change)





	Sons of Privilege

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes, so this was gonna be real political in the beginning, like, i've made an entire political playlist, there is a spotify list of it called 'angry political music' but it's not all political, some of it relates to how bullshit everything is and you can find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/h202293/playlist/2glWPMBEik0zm5BkVotvya) or i guess ill put the song list in? sorry, it's not too long but eh;  
> 1\. Witch Hunt by Rush  
> 2\. Zombie by the Cranberries  
> 3\. Make It Stop (Septembers Children) by Rise Against  
> 4\. Antivist by Bring Me The Horizon  
> 5\. Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival  
> 6\. Sons of Privilege by Alexisonfire  
> 7\. People = Shit by Slipknot  
> 8\. Prayer of the Refugee by Rise Against  
> 9\. Deer Dance by System of a Down  
> 10\. War Pigs by Black Sabbath  
> 11\. Blood On The World's Hands by Iron Maiden  
> 12\. American Idiot by Green Day  
> 13\. You're Crashing But You're No Wave by Fallout Boy  
> 14\. For Whom the Bell Tolls by Metallica  
> 15\. Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine  
> 16\. I'd Love to Change The World (Matstubs Remix) by Jetta  
> 17\. Children of the Revolution by the Violent Femmes  
> 18\. Hands Held High by Linkin Park  
> 19\. B.Y.O.B by System of a Down
> 
> mm that's p long but pls enjoy whether or not you listen to my sad playlist

Camelot is not a fantastic kingdom, everybody knows this, well, everyone _outside_ of its’ lavish, stone walls, probably built by slaves until such a practice was banished.

The lush grasses and crops of the kingdom propose ‘easy’ lives to the peasants that work for their entire life, sending their crops to the King and barely surviving themselves.

The previous King is _always_ forgiving, unless the person on trial is either from another kingdom or, practices the _cursed_ religion of sorcery.

But, the previous King is dearly departed now, merely a part of the very fabric of their law system and the imprint of so many lives that have also disappeared into the depths of the Old Religion.

However, the ex-King’s soul is so twisted and bitter that it truly has one of the higher chances of becoming a dorocha, ghost-like souls that caused misery and death when they travelled within the ‘human’ world.

The title, the crown, it’s all a guise to make more money for themselves, Merlin thinks, watching as the Lords and Nobles crowd around the table that has been brought for such council meetings, they’re not _permitted_ to sit at the Round Table.

It’s only made for Arthur’s trusted knights, Guinevere, Merlin and maybe Gaius.

At the meeting, there is a subtle reminder of the impending ‘trial’. And that’s when Merlin counts things to start to _kind_ of go pear-shaped, there’s a woman in the holding cells that has yet to be tried, she was caught magically growing flowers for a long-time lover, obviously, for practising such a convoluted, corrupting… practise?

She is to have a trial this afternoon in the face of King Arthur and the advisers that have been alive for far longer than he has.

Merlin hates it, he hates the way that people are prosecuted for such godamn simple crimes, she hadn’t even tried to hurt anyone! She just hadn’t had the money to buy a bouquet of flowers to impress a lover.

He’s reminded painfully of Freya, the way she had been so happy when he’d fed her transfigured strawberries – or, tried to, it was exceedingly hard to transfigure.

Apparently, something shows on his face because he gets an odd glance from Arthur, thankfully, he’s only in the line of Arthur, no-one else.

After the meeting he tries to leave as quick as possible without disturbing anyone, he wants to be alone right now and he doesn’t think that talking to Arthur will help him in the slightest.

Unfortunately, his sire is quicker than him and grabs his arm, clenching painfully, “ _Mer_ lin, where are you off to?”

“Um-” Any words that try to crawl from his throat are blocked by the sudden lump there, gods, when did talking to _Arthur_ get so difficult?

Oh, that’s right, probably when he executes innocents.

“Is it the trial?” He asks softly, as if talking to a startled deer instead of a friend.

“I guess so, Isobelle hasn’t really caused harm has she?” He says, swallowing down the emotions poorly.

Arthur seems to consider it for a few seconds, inhaling deeply, “I know, but regardless, she has broken the law.”

He tries not to cry at the injustice of it, it’s just… how is he able to get through to Arthur and say what needs to be said to his sire and _friend._

“But-”

“I know you hate the trial but I would much prefer it if you were there.” He murmurs softly and Merlin smiles brokenly.

“Of course, sire, is there anything else you will have me do beforehand?” Merlin plays the perfect servant to _get away._

“No, but make sure you bring me my lunch, will you?”

“Yes sire.” Giving a respectful bow, not in the mood for the normal banter he turns and makes his leave, trying not to scramble away. He wants to go to the lake, to Freya, but he doubts he’ll have enough time, so with a grudging sigh he returns to Gaius’ quarters.

Thankfully, the man is not in sight and he instead allows himself to collapse in his bed, there’s a _ton_ of things he needs to do, but he _can’t,_ he’s too busy being sad and depressed about several things going on right now.

It’s not like Isobelle is going to get a fair trial, is it? She’s sitting locked in magical suppressing chains (and the thought of being blocked from his magic makes him shudder), and probably weeping for the loss of her husband, and, inevitably, her life.

Sorcery isn’t a wicked thing, he’s heard people compare it to a sword, but… there isn’t really any way to truly compare magic to something so mundane.

In truth, magic is the simple fabric of the earth, and the earth keened from the loss of magic so long ago, the few magic users left – at least, in Camelot – utilise the power preordained by the goddesses.

But, is it ­so awful to practise a religion of sorts?

He groans and decides that it’s probably better to get going for Arthur’s lunch while he was still ahead.

Merlin pulls on his boots and walks to the kitchens in the same clumsy manner he does everything.

The head-cook heaves out a sigh of relief, “You’re finally here, take that to King Arthur before he comes here himself.” Then she wacks him with her wooden spoon and he ducks his head bashfully.

He knocks fancily on the door before barging in, “Your lunch, prat.” He bows sarcastically.

“ _Mer_ lin, that’s no way to speak to your king.” Arthur complains, abandoning his hefty pile of paperwork.

“Sorry, _King_ Prat.” He amends, setting down the tray of food. “Are you sure you should be eating this much?”

“Are you calling me fat?” Arthur demands indignantly.

“No, I never said that!” He replies with a laugh. “But, I’ve noticed that your belt notches are getting much further along.”

“That’s the second time!” Arthur says, pointing the fork at him.

He holds up his hands in a placating gesture, “Well, is there anything your Royal Prattiness would want me to do before the trial?”

“My laundry needs doing, my armour needs to reflect my face and all of that-” He gestures to the pile of parchment “-needs to be completed by this afternoon.”

Merlin fights his jaw falling open if only to prevent himself looking like an idiot, “Why do _I_ have to do your paperwork?”

“ _Because, Mer_ lin, my brain is going to rot and if you don’t have a brain, it can’t rot!” Arthur replies, seeming far too pleased at his reasoning.

He splutters on air for a moment before jibing, “Well, sire, I’ve heard that having no brain makes you lighter.”

“That’s the third time Merlin! Maybe I should just send you to the stocks!” Arthur says in exasperation.

“Right, sorry, I’ll get started right away on your parchment.” Merlin huffed and plonked himself down in front of the mountain of work.

They ate and worked in comfortable silence, for despite the fact that a magic user was to die this afternoon, the pair’s bond would run deeper than any conceivable relationship in the history of the earth – and the future too.

The upcoming trial seems to stir a fire in the people that had never existed before, if Uther had been alive he would have claimed that the sorcerer had placed a charm on them.

Merlin stands next to Gaius as the woman is brought forth before the King and the notable peoples of Camelot. Truly, the magic wielder does not even have a suitable defence.

She is brought into the crowd by two prison guards and disposed of in front of Arthur and Guinevere’s thrones.

The pair are dressed in some of their finest garments, robes, dresses, corsets, the best material that the King and Queen could afford.

And atop their heads adorned their crowns, diamonds and gold glinting in the afternoon sun, burning on like a fire.

“You, Isobelle Cortez have been found guilty of practising the sorcery my father forbade, as everyone knows, such an act is against the law and therefore akin to treason. Do you have anything to say in your defence?” Arthur asks, the perfect picture of nobility.

Isobelle takes a deep breath but her voice still shakes slightly as she speaks, “I have never used sorcery for harm, your majesty, I only wish to entertain. I know that sorcery is forbidden, but it’s the same as any kind of practise, deadly in one hands and useful in another’s. I truly wish that you can see past what your father could not.” She takes another breath, hands wringing together behind her back where they are tied tightly. “And, I am not the only to practise sorcery within the walls of Camelot, there are those that practise sorcery to protect the very kingdom that would burn them in an instant.”

Merlin freezes, he thought he was being careful! Tentatively he sends feelers of magic forth into the woman, she stiffens and surreptitiously glances to him and Gaius, she dips her head in recognition and turns back to Arthur.

He seems to be contemplating it, “To be clear, you swear on the laws of this land, on your life, that you have only used sorcery to create and not destroy nor harm?”

“That is correct.”

“I suppose there is nothing else to be done then.” Arthur clasps Guinevere’s hand before standing, he gestures to one of the nearby guards but then reconsiders. “I suppose that at the barest of your capabilities, you are able to free yourself from those bindings, correct?”

“Yes milord.” She admits, ignoring the gasps around the court.

“Do it, free yourself.” Arthur says, standing before the woman.

She gives him a look of disbelief and when he gestures at her to continued she whispers quietly, “Y _n rhydd i mi o'r rhwymiadau hyn_.”

Her eyes flash a brilliant gold and the ropes fall away like supple material.

“Rise.”

Merlin readies himself, this is usually when a sorcerer would attack Arthur, but maybe… maybe she won’t.

He’s a tad jealous that she’s gotten this far without being crucified for practising the ‘dark arts’. Gods, those were _not_ the dark arts, they were far more formidable, not to be dabbled in except for _highly_ extenuating circumstances.

But anyway, he watches in mild (who is he kidding, _full_ awe) as Arthur says in his Kingly voice, “For Isobelle Cortez’ transgressions, she will be fully pardoned,” he raises a hand to forstall the chatter, “she has not committed a crime except to create roses from nothing, I ask you this. If we kill someone for something so simple, then where will it take us?”

The people shift from foot to foot, contemplating the weight of his words, Guinevere smiles regally and gives an approving smile.

“Isobelle, I believe that your fiancé is waiting.” The Queen smiles gently and genially, placing a hand on her husbands’ back.

“Thank you so much milord and milady.” She curtsies and scurries out of the throne room.

Slowly, the shock of what transpired transforms into whispers and the majority of the room trickle out, “Merlin.”

Arthur says, voice commanding.

He turns to Gaius and gives him a reassuring smile, the Knights grin at him on the way out and Gwaine claps him on the shoulder.

Guinevere gestures to him, arms welcoming, and he gives her a quick hug, confused about what exactly Arthur wants. “Now, both of you behave.” She gives them both pointed looks and walks out of the throne room.

“Yes Arthur?” He swallows past his suddenly dry throat.

“Take a seat, will you?” Arthur says, pulling off the stuffy cape that lays across his shoulders.

He is too strung out to reply wittily so he complies in obedience, sitting on the edge of Arthur’s throne, his King sits beside him in Guinevere’s chair.

“Why did you allow her to go?” Merlin asks, not looking at Arthur, voice small.

Arthur smiles gently and instead of talking, presses a pile of parchment into his lap, he almost slides off the throne in surprise but instead turns to Arthur with a wry smile, “Still need me to do parchment-work huh?”

“Sure, read it.” Merlin does as his King instructs and scans the parchment, not really comprehending what he is reading, but as he reaches one of the key words he lurches forward and scans the entire document once more.

“Arthur wh-” He cuts off, emotion clogging his throat up annoyingly.

“I’ve been considering for a while you see,” Arthur finally stands, easing the stack off his servant’s lap, roles perversely reversed, “magic doesn’t _always_ have to be evil, sure, it led to both of my parents’ deaths, but I’ve heard that my mother was because of what my father wanted. And my father was going to happen any time, it was just a matter of when the Gods decided to take him.

“And when I saw my manservant practising magic out in the open, and to what? Clean my armour.” He chuckled, but Merlin almost tumbled out of the throne, trying to scramble away. He is halted by two muscular arms and deposited back on the throne. And Merlin decides that regardless of what happens, he will accept it.

“I was so mad at first, unable to understand why you wouldn’t tell _me,_ and I told Guinevere, she said to take my time as to not make any decisions I would, _regret._ ”

“You know?” Merlin asks shakily.

“Yup, and suddenly it made _so_ much more sense, all of those times we’ve been lucky from mere bandits. Sure I’m still kind of mad, but I will give you a chance to explain. And you will tell me _everything_.”

He gulped but nodded softly.

And later on when they have talked about the things done and the mistakes accumulated on a guilty conscience, Guinevere comes in bearing a meal and the trio continue to talk.

And _much_ later on, when the dust has settled and the druids have been slowly diffused back into Camelot, Arthur repeals the ban on magic, there are some magics that are forbidden – but they were forbidden even when magic _was_ legal.

Merlin becomes the ambassador to all magic peoples and Arthur’s adviser in all things magical, eventually being named the Court Sorcerer, becoming the beacon of light to all magical creatures.


End file.
